Wrecks and Regrets
by Cowpuppy
Summary: Paige and Emily are trapped. Paige is trapped by her family. Emily is trapped in a relationship that she knows is no good. Thrown together by a sudden rainstorm, they may just find the way out. Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

She sat on the steps, kicking her heels against the risers. Her bike tire, thrust into the air, spun in the gusting wind. The gale swept up the faint _click-click-click_ of the wheel as it hurtled through her back yard, almost drowning the shouts erupting from the house behind her.

Almost, but not quite.

The screams reached a crescendo and then the back door slammed, her father clomping across the deck. His lighter clicked. He puffed. His smoke drifted past her and she wrinkled her nose as it trailed up and up, dancing away with her bike's clicking and the wind's howling.

"Fix your bike?" he asked.

She didn't look at him. "Yeah." She had been sitting idle for the better part of half an hour, by that point.

"You, uh, you hear any of that?"

Her feet stilled. She pulled them to rest on the steps, bending to hug her knees to her chest. "No."

"Good." He rifled through his pockets. "Paige?"

The wind snapped at her hair, dragging it across her face. She plucked it away, trying and failing to secure it behind her ear. She did not speak and she did not turn around.

"Kiddo, go to the store and get me another pack. I'm out."

She turned to look, then, snatching the crumpled bill from his calloused fingers. "Why can't you go get your own?"

He released the breath he'd been holding, blowing smoke towards the gray sky. "I'm still talking with your mom. We might be a while." He wasn't looking at her.

She followed his gaze, found the shadowy silhouette of her mother in the window. Her father turned away, staring across the backyard. Paige's shoulder slumped. She pushed off the deck, righting her bike and shoving the bill in her pocket.

As she swung her leg over the seat, her father cast his cigarette at the ground. She watched him make his way back into the house. She watched her mother slip away from the window.

The door slammed behind her father, and Paige kicked off the ground and left her parents behind her.

* * *

Emily's frown grew as she stared at the sky. The clouds loomed thicker and grayer with each passing moment and the wind had whipped itself into a froth, tugging at every loose bit of hair and clothing. It flung the clouds across the sky at a dizzying speed.

"Earth to Em," said Kevin. "Gonna help me get these chairs inside or what?"

She whipped around, eyes wide, to find her boss watching her with a lopsided smile and a cocked eyebrow. She hopped forward, lifting one of the patio chairs. "I'm so sorry. The weather's just getting really awful..."

He laughed, tucking a chair under his arm. "It's okay. Let's just take care of these before we get caught in the worst of it."

Their hustle paid off; Emily carried the last chair inside just as the heavens opened up. She flicked the rain from her brow and heaved a sigh of relief.

Kevin finished stacking the chairs in the back room. He glanced around the shop, eyes darting from one empty table to another.

"I don't see any point in staying open, do you?" he said.

Emily shook her head. "It's been quiet all day and this rain won't help." She glanced at the still-open door to the deluge beyond, crossing her arms and chewing on her lip.

"You okay?" asked Kevin. "You've been kind of weird all day."

She shook her head, willing a smile into her lips. "I'm fine. You can go home. I'll lock up; I have to wait for Samara, anyway."

"Thanks, Em," he said. He didn't have to be told twice; before she could blink, he'd tossed his apron aside, pulled on his jacket, and skipped out the door beneath the protective shade of his umbrella.

After calling Samara and leaving a voicemail, Emily busied herself cleaning counters and tidying the shop. Every so often she stopped by the door, glancing out into the street, but her girlfriend did not appear.

* * *

Paige tucked her dad's cigarettes in her pocket and cast one last indignant glare at the clerk. He'd implied that her I.D. was fake. She'd implied something rather uncouth about his mother.

The bell on the door tinkled cheerily behind her, oblivious to the elements roiling beyond its tiny existence. The world was simmering, the wind reaching a fever pitch and thunder growling in the distance. She shivered inside her thin tee and worn jeans.

She wondered why she hadn't grabbed her jacket. Then she remembered where she'd left it - hanging on the peg just inside the back door. No chance in hell she'd have gone back in there to get it.

Leaves swept across the road, crunching beneath her tires as she pedaled. The wind nudged her, setting her to wobbling, but she righted herself each time. She pedaled harder. Her fingers froze around the handles.

She felt one drop on the back of her hand, then one on her scalp. Her heart pattered in her chest. _No, no, no!_

But no amount of pleading with the universe could save her from her inevitable fate. The rain ripped through the clouds and toppled down, down, catching Paige McCullers in naught but an old shirt and a pair of jeans with a hole in one knee.

She made it to the center of town and sped past the shops, slicing through puddles and casting spray as she went. Her head was down and drops slid down her nose, splashing to the pavement below. The leaves clogged the way, slick and shiny, pasted to the ground.

She came around the corner just a bit too fast and her tire skidded across a slippery leaf. She tried to hit the brakes, but the bike spun out from under her. Gravity seized her. She went down, down in a tangle of legs and metal, down into a fist of asphalt.

* * *

Emily leaned in the doorway, balling her apron in her hands. She'd cleaned each table twice over, checked the entire inventory and left a detailed note marking everything that they might need to restock. She swept the floor, washed and dried every glass and mug, and watered every plant.

There was nothing more to do. She had crossed off every task on the shop's to-do list, and Samara had still not appeared.

Emily glanced down at her phone and thumbed through the series of increasingly anxious texts she'd sent. There would be just as many missed calls and voicemails waiting for the truant blonde. Emily blinked back tears and shoved her phone in her pocket.

She stared at the sheets of water streaking through the air only to break against the world below. The hiss of droplet after droplet splattering against the pavement rolled together with the rumble of thunder and the whistle of the wind. Goosebumps pricked to life along her arms and she rubbed at them, trying in vain to keep them down.

She couldn't fight the chill. She listened to the rain and it crept along her skin. She watched it fall and it sank into her muscles. She thought of Samara, and it leached into her bones.

Then there was a new sound. A mechanical whirring. She leaned forward, peering into the street, just protected from the rain by the eaves above. To the left. She squinted, her gaze piercing the rainfall veil.

A girl on a bike. Emily shivered. She didn't envy whoever that was. The girl's head was bent, clothes clinging to her frame as her legs pumped and pumped, speeding the bike along. The girl shook the rain from her face as she came around the corner.

Too fast.

She went down.

Emily gasped as the girl struck the pavement, legs and arms flying as she rolled onto her back with the bike on top of her. Before the gasp died on her lips, she bolted into the rain, splashing down the street to kneel beside the biker.

"Are you okay? Oh my God," said Emily, over and over. The girl pushed herself up, blinking and gnashing her teeth. Emily tossed the bike aside as the girl pulled herself into a sitting position.

Paige looked at her hands. Blood pooled in her cuts only to be wicked away by the water streaming down her palms. Flecks of asphalt wedged themselves into her skin. Each drop of rain on the wounds dragged a hiss through her teeth.

She checked her knees next and found a similar result on the left one. _Great._ Now her jeans had matching holes.

With a grunt, she planted one palm on the ground and pushed herself into a squat before standing upright. The girl next to her - _when did she get there?_ - rose with her. Paige shook her head again. The girl was talking.

"Come with me," said Emily. "I'll help you get cleaned up." She picked up Paige's bike and propped it beside her. Paige blinked.

"Thanks," she said. Her fingers found her forehead and came away bloody. _Even better._

Paige followed Emily back to the Brew, flopping into a seat as Emily hurried into the back and raided the first aid cabinet. When she returned, hands full of towels, bandages, and hydrogen peroxide, Paige was bent over her hands, picking dirt from the gashes.

"Let me help," said Emily. She knelt in front of Paige and set to work cleaning the scrape on her knee. Paige watched her, holding her hands out of the way.

"You don't have to do that," she said as Emily unscrewed the peroxide bottle.

Emily shook her head. "I don't mind," she said, and she tipped the solution over the wound.

Paige winced, but Emily held her leg steady. Paige gritted her teeth as the other girl continued cleaning and bandaging her knee. "Do I know you?"

Emily looked up, eyes searching Paige's face. Her thumb brushed Paige's knee through the rip in her jeans, rubbing across the skin just above the cut. The stinging tingle in her knee raced up through Paige, spreading in a flush across her neck and cheeks.

"Maybe," said Emily. "Are you the new girl? Umm... Paige McCullers?"

Paige grinned. "That's me."

Emily returned the smile. "I'm Emily Fields."

"Nice to meet you, Emily. And thanks again." She jerked her head towards the pile of cleaning supplies.

Emily took Paige's hand in both of hers, spreading it flat to inspect the scrapes. "It's no problem," she said. "I was just waiting to close up, anyway."

"You work here?" Paige surveyed the Brew, looking everywhere but down at her hand cradled by Emily's fingers.

"Yeah, for a few years now." Emily glanced up at her patient. "If I leave Rosewood knowing anything, it'll be how to make an amazing cup of coffee."

"If you're that good, I'll have to try it sometime," said Paige.

It was Emily's turn to feel warmth creeping into her cheeks. She brushed her fingers over Paige's knuckles, just once, without thinking, before her girlfriend's face swam into her mind and she dropped Paige's hand like a hot coal.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," said Paige. "That came out... I wasn't... I mean, not that I wouldn't, but my gaydar isn't always... not that I was trying to figure out... shit."

Emily wrung her hands, and matched Paige's stammer with one of her own. "No, no, you weren't, I just... and you weren't wrong. I'm, I'm flattered, I just have a girlfriend already."

Paige waved her hands. "Yeah, yeah, of course. It's fine. It's fine. I'm sorry."

Their nervous laughter dissolved until there was nothing left but the pattering of the rain and the ticking of the clock. Paige cleared her throat. "Well, I think I can take care of myself from here." She scooted back in her seat, as far back as she could go, and Emily stood up and retreated behind the counter.

Paige focused her energies into her hand and Emily busied herself making coffee. She was making a new mess that would have to be cleaned later, but Paige's comment looped like a skipping record in her head. And in any case, the girl was shivering, so a hot cup of coffee would help her warm up.

She really was shivering. Her shirt hung off her back, heavy with rainwater, and her hair fell in hanks from her head.

"Paige?" called Emily. The other girl looked up. Emily felt her cheeks grow warm again as Paige's eyes met her own. _Get a grip, Emily_. "Do you need a change of clothes? I always keep some in the back. In case I spill something."

"Bad experience?" asked Paige, lopsided grin creeping back.

Emily shrugged. "It only has to happen once. I'll go get them. They should fit." She vanished into the back room.

Paige finished dressing the scrapes and while Emily was gone, she wandered over to the counter. When Emily popped back into the shop, she jumped, surprised by Paige's proximity. She stuck out her arms, offering the bundle of clothes with a smile as she tried to regain her composure. Paige just laughed, biting back a comment, and slipped past Emily to find the bathroom.

She threw her wet clothes to the ground and they landed with a splat. She shook her head, the weight of her hair tugging at her scalp. Emily had given her a towel. She smiled. _She thinks of everything._

Paige pulled Emily's shirt over her head. As she brought it over her nose, she breathed, drinking in the floral aroma of coffee, the mustiness of the back room, and something sweet and strong and acidic. Sweat and shampoo, skin and detergent all mixed together. A human scent. Emily's.

When she returned, Emily had her coffee ready.

"You didn't have to do that," said Paige, though she lifted the cup to her lips, pausing to inhale the scent. "Mm. I hope it tastes as good as it smells."

"It will," said Emily, leaning back on the counter. "I made it."

Paige raised an eyebrow and smiled into the drink. She took a sip, swallowed, and smacked her lips. "That is good! Damn. I'll have to make a point to come back for more."

Emily smiled. "I'd like that." She caught the growing grin on Paige's face and dropped her eyes, making a show of cleaning the counter.

Paige grimaced as Emily turned away. _Knock it off, McCullers! She has a _girlfriend. _The last thing you need is to make things awkward. Just get through this year..._

The rain was still falling in sheets. Paige crossed to the doorway, jamming one hand in a pocket and leaning out to peer up and down the street.

"Are you on the swim team?" she called over her shoulder.

Emily's head popped up. "Yeah, I am. Why?"

"I knew it. I saw you at the meet last week. Nice job, by the way, you dominated your heats."

"You were at the meet? Do you swim?"

Paige shrugged. "I did, at my old school. But I transferred here kind of last minute. I'm ineligible, at least for a while."

"That sucks." Emily walked around the counter and took a seat by Paige. The other girl turned, resting back against the doorjamb. Half her face was bathed in the soft, warm light of the shop; the other reflected the dark gleam of the clouds outside. Her eyes twinkled at the junction, caught between the worlds.

"It does," said Paige with yet another shrug. "But it is what it is, you know?" She stared out at the rain again, a frown building on her lips.

Emily frowned. She studied the girl's profile, her eyes, the shape of her nose, the creases in her eyebrows. She tilted her head. "I think I remember you, too," she said. "You swam at the state championships, didn't you? You were amazing."

Paige ran her fingers through her damp hair, untangling the clumps. She glanced at Emily and swirled her coffee. "Thanks."

"Can't you fight it?"

Paige shook her head. "I tried. But there's only so much I can do on my own."

"On your own?" Emily pursed her lips. "Your parents..." Paige flinched, and Emily swallowed the rest of the sentence. "Never mind. Well, when you _are_ eligible, I'll be glad to have you. On the team." She coughed. "You're a great swimmer and you seem like a good person, too."

"You too," said Paige, pushing off the door. The rain had finally begun to let up. The sky had brightened, the darkness giving way to a sickly yellow-gray that glowed beyond the trees that scraped across it. "Guess I should head home."

"Same," said Emily. She grabbed her things from the back and joined Paige out front, where she lingered beside her bike, her wet clothes stuffed in a take-out bag looped over the handlebars. "Well, I'll see you around. Take care of those scrapes."

"I will. Thanks for all the help. Oh!" Paige stopped, straddling the bike. "I'll make sure to get these clothes back to you."

Emily waved the suggestion away. "Don't worry about it. You don't need to."

Paige grinned and shook her head. "Oh, but I do. Gives me an excuse to talk to you again, doesn't it?" With that, she hopped onto the pedals and zoomed away.

Emily crossed her arms across her chest, watching as the other girl disappeared down the street. She didn't fight the smile that tugged at her lips.

The wind jostled the trees, scattering stray droplets over the girl below. One landed on her cheek. She wiped it away with a finger, pinching it with her thumb and rubbing it between the pads. She laid her finger against her lips and her smile grew.

Emily hated the rain. She had never been one for walks in the downpour. She liked the coziness of the indoors, its warmth, the dry heat. She wasn't the kid who jumped in puddles. The rain held no mysteries, no secrets. It had nothing to offer her.

She walked home. Soggy leaves squelched beneath her shoes.

All that time, she had been wrong.

Emily loved the rain.

* * *

**A/N: Re-posting this from tumblr. I'll just copy my author's note from there: Inspired by the weather. No, seriously, I love rain and it was so deliciously rainy today that I just wanted to write something. Something with the bluster and emptiness and chill of an October rainstorm, the way the leaves are strewn everywhere and the way the air smells wet and fresh and crisp afterward.**

**This is basically just a first chapter. I say that, and not _one-shot_, because it doesn't have the same kind of closure as a one-shot. I dunno. I like doing these little treatments for possible long-form fanfiction ideas and then never doing anything with them. Because I'm a terrible person! *cries*[/end original note]**

**So, yeah. Confession: I may have written more of this story since I posted it on tumblr. Confession #2: I may have written a LOT more of this story since I posted it on tumblr. I have a buffer. Repeat, I have a buffer...**

**Anyway, we'll see where it goes. I have enough to update once a week for the next... mm, month or so, and hopefully, _hopefully_ I can write enough in that month that I don't fall behind. But again, I'm a terrible person and I have so much trouble focusing on any one thing.**

**But thanks for reading if you are reading :) I appreciate any comments, concerns, thoughts, ramblings, etc., in review or PM form. Whatever floats your boat! I'm not so good about responding but rest assured I love your feedback.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Wow! You all seem to like this story. That makes me so happy, you have no idea. Maybe you have an idea. I like when people like my stuff! And I have seven chapters complete (minus editing) so this will be good to go once a week for a while.

Anyway, here's chapter two.

* * *

Emily tugged her jacket closer. Her hair wrapped around her neck and across her face and she brushed it away again and again as she hurried down the sidewalk.

Her phone buzzed. Her girlfriend's face smiled at her, her number glowing on the screen. Emily stopped, teeth chattering as she answered the call.

"H-hello?"

"Where are you?" Samara's muffled voice exploded from the speaker. Emily moved the phone away from her ear and winced.

"I started walking," she said.

She heard the rumble of Samara's engine in the background. "I'm so sorry," said Samara. "I'll come get you."

"It's fine." Emily scowled and started walking again. "I'm almost home."

Samara ignored her. "Just wait there. I'll pick you up on the way. I love you."

Emily hung up, shoving the phone back into her pocket. The trees chattered with the wind and the rain. It had started to drizzle, and Emily sped up, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning into the gale.

* * *

Paige rolled up her driveway past her mother's car, ducking into the garage and stowing her bike. She pressed her ear to the inner door.

Nothing. As far as she could tell, the house was silent as the grave. She crept inside, shutting the door behind her as slowly as possible. Her skin pricked to life, shrugging off the chill. She patted her nose, wriggling away the cold.

She slipped off her shoes and padded through the room, heading for the stairs. As she placed her toes on the first step, her mother called her name. Paige held her breath. Her mother did not call again. Paige resumed climbing.

"Paige, honey, can you come here, please?" her mother insisted. Paige groaned and thundered back down.

"What?" she asked, freezing in the doorway. Her mother sat in the chair beyond, curled up on the couch with her eyes fixed on the television, a steaming mug clutched between her hands.

"You're on your own for dinner tonight," said the older woman without looking at her daughter.

Paige's stomach rumbled and she grimaced. "Again?"

Her mother spun around. "Is that a problem? You're eighteen. You're perfectly capable of feeding yourself."

"Screw you," said Paige. The rush of blood burned beneath her still-frozen skin. Her mother narrowed her eyes and held her daughter's glare. Neither woman backed down, jaws locking and brows furrowing. Then her mother sighed and turned back around, snuggling down into awkward comfort.

"Where's Dad?" asked Paige, twisting the knife. Her mother sagged even more, shoulders drooping beneath the blanket.

"Out."

Paige let out a clipped laugh. She dragged in a deep breath. The air was warm and dusty, fresh-cooked off the heater. She let it go, and clomped up the stairs.

* * *

Samara rolled down her window as she inched along beside Emily.

"Em, please, get in the car."

Emily did not answer, but hugged her arms tighter and bit her quivering lip. Her steps began to slow.

"Emily, I said I'm sorry. I didn't plan to leave you hanging. I don't know what else to say."

Emily sucked in a stuttering breath and shook her head. "You _always_ do this."

"I'm so sorry. I really am. Baby, you're shivering. Please let me drive you home."

The shivering girl stopped. She closed her eyes and tipped her head to the sky. The first drops of the returning storm splattered on her cheeks. They burned cold.

She slipped into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind her. Samara smiled and stepped on the gas.

* * *

They sat, parked in her driveway as the rain hammered the roof of Samara's car. Emily leaned against the window, breath fogging the glass as the crystal drops clung and collected and coasted down the outside. A chill worked its way into her, numbing her and stilling the breath in her lungs.

"Emily," said Samara. She reached out and her fingers brushed Emily's thigh. Emily scooted away, pushing up against the door. Samara rested her hand on the seat instead. She spoke again. "You know work gets busy sometimes."

"You could have called or something," Emily mumbled into the window. She reached up a finger and dragged it through the cloud of condensation. It cut through with a low squeak.

"I was really busy."

"You didn't call until you were already at the Brew. I left you so many messages."

Samara turned around in her seat, leaning over towards Emily. "Emily," she whispered. "At least look at me."

Emily glanced at Samara over her shoulder, cheeks stained with tears. Samara's face melted. "You're beautiful," she said.

Emily couldn't help but smile, shaking her head. "I'm crying."

"You're beautiful," said Samara again. She reached out and placed her hand on Emily's arm. Emily sniffled and Samara frowned. "I'm so, so sorry. I can't take it back, but I can say it'll never happen again."

Emily locked eyes with Samara as the other girl's hand traveled down to her own, nestled in her lap. "Never?" she asked.

Samara grinned. "Never." She leaned forward and Emily peeled herself from the door. Their lips met, just briefly, before Emily pulled away to wipe her eyes. Samara squeezed Emily's hand before glancing out the window.

"Guess we'll have to make a run for it," she said.

Emily eyed the ominous sky and a smile tickled her lips. Samara slipped out of the car, slammed the door behind her and ran for the porch.

Emily followed, sliding from her seat into the elements. She didn't hurry. She turned her face to the sky. The raindrops splashed against her skin, breaking as they drummed their staccato beat. The gray clouds pressed in from above but the shiver that rolled across Emily's skin tore her open, lungs swelling with cold-laden air before spilling it free in a shifting mist.

"Emily!" shouted Samara. "What are you doing?"

Emily grinned at her girlfriend and spread her arms wide. "I love the rain!" She blinked, and the droplets sparkled in her eyelashes.

"You hate the rain!" said Samara, laughing. "Come on!"

The soaking wet girl ran for the porch and grabbed her girlfriend. They shrieked, Emily with mirth and Samara with distress. "Em! You're getting me all wet!"

Emily pulled away and Samara brushed past her into the house. Emily did not follow but leaned against the railing and watched the rain fall.

Samara called from inside, snapping Emily from her reverie. She shivered, soaked to the bone, and flicked the water from her hands. She headed inside and the door behind her.

* * *

Paige crept back down the stairs. Emily's coffee bubbled in the pit of her stomach and her thoughts swirled in her skull, drifting towards the refrigerator below.

She gripped the railing, one hand held in front of her to ward off the darkness. Her mother was in bed upstairs. Her father was… somewhere.

She tiptoed into the kitchen. Her bare feet stuck against the cold tile. She pulled the fridge open. The electric light flooded the dark room, casting its edges in sharp, ghostly relief. She squinted into the fridge to filter out the glow even as it cut across her face.

Nothing ready-made, which was a shame. She found the cold cuts and checked to see if they'd gone bad.

They hadn't. _Unlike everything else in this house._

Crossing the room to flip on the light, banishing the harsh illumination of the fridge, she began to gather everything she needed for the perfect sandwich. If Emily's years in the coffee shop had turned her into a master barista, so had Paige's years under her parents' roof changed her into a professional scrounger.

A hand reached around her as she hunted for the bread and peeled away a slice of turkey with fumbling fingers. She closed the cabinet to find her father, a flush across his cheeks and nose, stuffing the slice into his mouth and licking his thumb clean.

"Got my smokes?" he asked. She fished them from her pocket and slapped them into his hand, turning up her nose at the smell wafting from him.

He slipped them in his own pocket and let his eyes travel over his daughter's face, melancholy seeping into his features. He found the scrape on her forehead, the bandages on her hand, the clothes that had changed since he'd seen her last.

"What happened, kiddo?" he asked as he reached out to stroke her hair.

She ducked beneath his calloused hand. "Nothing," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said, and his eyes began to water. They were unfocused, muscles relaxed behind the orbs. He blinked, trying to pull them together to lock on his daughter's, so much like his wife's.

"No, you're not," she spat. She threw open the cabinet, seized the loaf of bread and slammed it closed again. He jumped and she grabbed the turkey and elbowed him aside.

She flew up the stairs and flung herself into the room, leaning back against the door with one hand on the knob. A sob rocked through her, shaking up through her shoulders and down, down into her ankles. She flopped to the ground, legs splayed in front of her.

The chill-snapped rain air rushed through her window and her curtains billowed. Her tears poured down her cheeks and she pulled her shirt up over her nose, burying her eyes in the collar.

She took a rattling, wheezing breath, sucking it through her teeth, and her tongue tasted her own warmth and Emily's scent, still wedged in the threads of the fabric. She worked her head between her knees and wrapped her arms around her head. Her fingers dug into her hair.

The rain poured down, and Paige McCullers cried and cried.

* * *

Emily bounced down the stairs, slippers flapping against her heels as she went. Her flannel pajamas, riding low on her hips, swished around her legs. The rain chill still clung to her skin like a clammy hand, but the warmth of the house gathered her in its embrace. It cut through the cold residue to fill her from the outside in.

Samara waited on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. She'd changed, too, after Emily had drawn her into a sopping embrace. Her eyes lit up as her girlfriend flounced into the room, traveling to the shoulder that peeked out from beneath the too-large shirt that Emily wore.

They settled in to watch their movie – a horror flick of Emily's choice – with Emily snuggled into Samara's side, Samara's arm draped across her shoulders.

"So, how was work?" asked Samara as her fingers traced circles over the exposed skin of Emily's shoulder.

Emily shrugged. "There was hardly anyone there. We closed early."

"So I wasn't really late."

Emily pulled away and raised an eyebrow. "You still didn't answer my calls. Or my texts."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry I brought it up. So just a boring day? I hope Kevin didn't try to hit on you again." Samara smiled, but her eyes flashed with irritation.

Emily settled back down with a chuckle. "No, he behaved…" she trailed off.

Samara squirmed. "What? Did someone else hit on you?"

Emily sat upright. "No, no, I… well, maybe. She didn't mean to, though."

"She?" Samara's eyes narrowed. "Who is this girl?"

"She's new to the school," said Emily. "And like I said, she didn't mean to. It just came out wrong. Or I misinterpreted it." She shrugged. "I told her I'm _happily_ taken." She leaned in to kiss her girlfriend, but Samara pulled away.

"She goes to your school?" Emily nodded. Samara's expression soured. "Well, you should stay away from this bitch, whoever she is."

"Samara!" Emily pouted. "She backed off after I told her I was taken." _I suppose that's not completely true... _"It was an honest mistake."

Samara shook her head. "Honest or not, this girl is _into you_. It's not that I don't trust you-"

"No?" Emily crossed her arms.

"-I just don't trust this girl's intentions. Of course I trust you." Samara took Emily's hand in her own, but couldn't, or wouldn't look her girlfriend in the eye.

"She might be on the swim team with me," said Emily.

Samara linked their fingers and looked up at Emily with pleading eyes. "Em, please. Be nice to her - not that you'd ever be anything but nice-" She smiled. "But don't go out of your way to see her."

Emily watched Samara play with her hand, watched her trail her fingers along her arm, watched her lean in close. She smiled into the kiss, her hands slipping down to Samara's waist, curling in the folds of Samara's shirt.

Then she thought of Paige, the way the biker had smiled when Emily had offered to help, the appreciation apparent in her eyes when Emily handed her the dry set of clothes. _I can't avoid her. It would be cruel._

She pulled away, smiling as she broke into a yawn and stretched. Samara rubbed her knee. "You're not getting sleepy on me, are you?"

Emily wrung her hands. "I'm sorry. It was a weird day. I think I just want to get some sleep."

Samara leaned forward and kissed Emily on the forehead. "I understand. Let me clean up." She rose from the couch, carrying away the blanket and the popcorn. Emily stretched again and slunk after Samara. She watched her girlfriend gather up her things and shrug on her jacket. They shared a goodbye kiss, parting at last with a lingering gaze and fingers that did not break apart until gravity willed it.

She watched Samara drive away. Samara's taillights glinted in the mist that sprinkled from above. She heard the creak of a bike down the street and her head snapped towards the sound, but it was only the neighbor's kid, pedaling back home.

She relaxed; she hadn't realized that her whole body had tensed up, that her breath had become snagged in her throat. She shook her head. _I'll see her at school tomorrow._

The butterflies in her stomach lasted only a moment before the nausea took over. Her eyes searched for Samara's car, wide and frantic, but her girlfriend was gone.

_Samara can't read minds_.

Emily pushed her hair back from her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. She glanced at the sky; in the distance, the clouds had cleared and she could just see the twinkle of stars through the curtain of speckled rain.

* * *

Paige bent over her desk, pencil scratching back and forth over her notebook. Her calculus book lay open in front of her and she rifled through it before propping her forehead in her hand and grimacing.

She winced at the touch and remembered the scrape there. She trailed her fingers over it, tracing its outline. With a huff, she tossed her pencil onto her desk and snuck out of the room.

She peered at herself in the bathroom mirror. The cut swept over one eyebrow. It had begun to scab. She leaned forward, taking in each ridge of the rough, cracking seal.

Her hands had not had a chance to scab, isolated beneath the bandages. She inspected them and found no debris whatsoever. The pain was minimal as she replaced the dressings. Her knee was much the same.

Paige's fingers traced the patch of skin where Emily's thumb had brushed. She flinched and yanked her hand away, shaking her fingers as though she'd been burned. She chewed her lip and headed back to her room.

She slipped downstairs for the last time, replacing the bread and turkey. She hadn't wanted to risk doubling back for anything else. Her father's thick snores led her into the living room. He lay on his stomach on the couch, face pressed into the cushion and arm dangling over the side.

Paige turned towards the stairs but stopped with her hand on the railing. She glanced back and shivered. Balanced on the tips of her toes, she found the blanket - the one that her mother was rarely without - and draped it over her father. His feet poked out the ends, grimy socks with fraying soles peeping from under the fringe. Her mouth froze between a frown and a smile.

When she returned to her room, she crossed to her desk, but could not sit down. Her half-completed homework stared at her, naked blue lines waiting to be filled with her next attempt at a derivation.

She couldn't bring herself to care. Why care about the rate of change of the temperature of a tub of water? Could an equation describe how quickly her heart had started beating when Emily had taken Paige's hand in her own? Could she solve for the amount of time it would take for her to shake the girl - _the _taken _girl_ - from her thoughts?

She'd heard once that rate of change of acceleration was called a _jerk_. Perhaps that could explain the way her stomach had flipped each time Emily had smiled. It had felt like a jerk. A lurch. Her heart had leapt into her throat and throbbed there, blocking all air to her lungs.

_She's taken. She has a _girlfriend.

It didn't seem to matter. Her skin still tingled where Emily had touched her. Her heart still pattered each time she remembered the way the girl had looked at her. _So caring. So worried for me. She barely knows me. She _didn't _know me._

Paige flicked off her desk lamp, and the room was suddenly dark, lit only by the shifting light oozing through the open window. She leaned on the windowsill. The wind streamed across her skin. Outside, it tousled the leaves, spinning them about with a crinkling clatter. Everything gleamed, coated in the residue of the evening's storm. It was fresh and crisp.

She left the window open, though the forecast predicted more showers throughout the night. She yanked off her shirt, pulling it over her head. It dangled in her hands as the starlight glanced from her exposed skin.

Just a Rosewood Sharks shirt. Nothing special. The print was cracked and faded, the fabric glowing with a well-worn halo of fuzz.

Paige lifted it, folded it. It made a neat square. She set it on her desk beside her notebook. She closed the notebook, eyes avoiding the words "Emily Fields?" printed in the tiniest of lettering along the left margin beside a doodle of a bicycle and a woman's lips.

_If I wake up early, I can wash that shirt before I go to school_.

She wondered where Emily's locker was. Where she sat at lunch. Did they have lunch together? Maybe she could find her at swim practice. Did the swim team practice tomorrow?

Paige pulled her covers over her head.

_You're being ridiculous._

Her head sank into the pillow.

_Still..._

She drifted to sleep, head filled with the sounds of rain and the taste of coffee.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, there's chapter two. Less direct interaction between our heroines, but we certainly have a better idea of just what each of them is dealing with. I promise, Paige and Emily will have occasion to actually talk to each other again next week.

As usual, throw me any comments, questions, criticisms, whatever. Review, send a PM, find me on tumblr, whatever floats your boat. I'm all ears. Or, well, eyes, I guess, since this is the visually-oriented Interwebs and all.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Chapter Three! Thanks to everyone for the comments and everything on the last chapter :) It's much appreciated!

* * *

Paige leaned over her handlebars, zipping down the street towards Rosewood High. The wind dragged its fingers in her hair, letting it stream out behind her. She coasted to the bike rack, balancing on one pedal, and hopped off at the last second. She grinned as she stuck the dismount.

_It feels like the first day of school all over again. But better._

She adjusted her bag over her shoulder. Emily's clothes were wedged inside, wedged in the back of Paige's thoughts like a pebble in the bottom of a shoe. She couldn't shake them loose, no matter how hard she tried.

By the time she passed through the double doors and melted into the throngs of students, she'd almost gotten used to it. It felt less like an intruding pebble and more like a worry stone, a distraction from other concerns. Her hand drifted down, resting against the bag over the bundle of clothes.

She made a quick trip to her locker before beginning her cruise through the hallways. Her head bobbed up and down as she scanned the crowd, searching for her new friend.

Her search was in vain, and she joined the other students trickling into her first class.

The lecture went in one ear and out the other. She stared down at her notes and the numbers danced across the page. She drummed her pencil against the desk, against the notebook, against her lips, feet bouncing and eyes darting once, twice, fifty times to the clock, which of course only stretched the time like taffy to a crawl. _Click. Click. Tap, tap, tap._ _Yawn._

When the bell rang, she leapt from her seat and was out the door, tossing her homework – still incomplete – on the teacher's desk as she passed him.

She couldn't find Emily through the entirety of the morning period. The pebble-turned-worry stone changed again, to a millstone hung around her neck.

She let her eyes drift over the cafeteria's occupants – _odds are she's not even here _– and felt a glimmer of surprise when they found Emily, just settling down to a table across the room. Paige hurried over.

Emily looked up as Paige drew alongside the table, smile spreading into her cheeks.

"Hey," said Paige, almost out of breath. "I have your clothes."

"Wow, that was fast." Emily accepted the bundle that Paige handed her. "Did you wash these?"

"This morning." Paige returned Emily's smile. _Tone it down, weirdo._

"You didn't have to. Thanks so much." Emily leaned and reached for her bag. As she lowered her head so too traveled her eyes, cruising along the silhouette of Paige's jeans like a convertible down the coastline. _I hope she didn't see that_.

Paige could only see the cascade of Emily's hair, the way her shoulders flexed beneath her shirt as she moved, the slope of her neck when she snapped upright, flipping her hair behind her again. Her grip tightened on the tray in her hands.

"Well," she said, shifting from one foot to the other. "It was good to see you again. I'll… see you around?"

She started to back away but Emily grabbed her shirt just above the wrist. "Stay," she said. "There's room at our table for one more."

Paige didn't have to be asked twice. She slipped into the seat across from Emily, turning the word "our" over in her head. _Emily's friends?_

As if to answer her question, as if an unanswered question was the antithesis of her very being, Spencer Hastings dropped into the seat beside Emily. Like echoes of Spencer's entry, Aria Montgomery and Hanna Marin followed.

"I can't believe how much reading Mr. Fitz assigned," said Spencer, brows furrowed and eyes blazing. "We already have a paper due soon, and I have a giant problem set in AP Calc, _and_ I have field hockey practice, not to mention my parents want me to attend-"

"Spence, shut up. You'll be fine," said Hanna, gesturing with a spoon. Spencer swallowed her rant, popping upright as though it burned all the way down. Her eyes found Paige.

"Who are you?"

Paige, who had paused with her fork midway to her mouth while Spencer launched her tirade, dropped the utensil in surprise. "I'm-" Spencer's brusque question seemed to have shocked all command of the English language from her grasp.

"This is Paige McCullers," said Emily with a sweet smile.

"The new girl." Spencer extended her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Paige took Spencer's hand and they exchanged a quick, firm handshake. "You too," she said. Aria and Hanna were content to smile and wave when introduced.

Spencer raised her eyebrow. "So, why transfer so late in the year?"

Paige shrugged. "We moved here this summer and I was going to keep going to my old school. But my folks decided to pull me out after just a few weeks."

"Why?"

"Spence, you don't have to interrogate her," said Emily, giving Paige an apologetic look. Paige waved her concerns away.

"It's fine," she said. "I wasn't doing well in my classes. My dad didn't see why they should pay to send me there if I wasn't going to keep my grades up."

"That explains why I haven't seen you before," said Spencer. When everyone looked at her, waiting for her explanation, she raised her eyebrows as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I take all APs."

They continued their conversation, Emily trying her best to rein in Spencer's brash inquisitiveness and Hanna and Aria adding needed humor. As the warning bell rang, Paige gathered up her tray and left them with a goodbye and a smile, her eyes lingering just a moment on Emily's.

"She just gave you the look," said Hanna, nudging Emily as they walked to her locker.

Emily blushed and shook her head. "She did not."

Aria smiled. "Normally I'd agree with you, Em, but Hanna's actually right this time. New girl's got a thing for you."

"So, how do you know her? You were talking before we got there." Hanna peeked around Emily's locker. Emily tried her best to scowl. It wasn't a natural look for her; it was usually reserved for Samara.

"I helped her out yesterday. She fell off her bike and I let her use the Brew's first aid kit."

Spencer tapped her foot on the ground. "Emily, do I need to remind you that you have a _girlfriend_?"

Emily's scowl finally attained some credibility. "You don't even like Samara. You never have. And you're all acting like I'm involved in an affair with a girl I met _yesterday_!" She slammed her locker shut. "So I made a new friend who happens to be a hot girl who likes me. She knows I have a girlfriend and she respects that. You're all judging her and you don't even know her."

"Em," began Aria, but the girl in question could only shake with anger. Emily whirled on her heel and stalked off down the hall, disappearing into the flow of the crowd.

Hanna crossed her arms and pouted. "I've never seen Emily get mad like that."

Aria shrugged. "I guess we touched a nerve."

"'A hot girl who likes me'? The lady doth protest too much, methinks," mumbled Spencer. Aria bit back a grin and Hanna looked between the two.

"What? Spencer, in English, please?"

* * *

Emily lifted herself out of the water, stripping the cap from her head. She bounced over to her coach and pulled away her goggles.

"Great time, Emily!" said Coach Fulton, beaming. "You just keep getting better. Keep this up and I'll have to make you captain!"

Emily's wide smile faltered, fear creeping into her eyes. "Right. Captain." She glanced at the other girls gathered around them. "I don't know, Coach, don't you think someone else might be better?"

Fulton looked up from her clipboard, lips drawing into a tight line. "Emily," she said. "You're the best swimmer we've got, you're a kind, genuine person and you always know just the right thing to say. These girls look up to you."

Emily shrugged and Fulton shook her head. "Well, keep practicing. You're good, Fields, but you can do better. We're going to need this team at its best at the meet." She shouted the last sentence and everyone looked up, cheering in acknowledgment.

"About that, Coach," said Emily, pulling her towel around her waist. "Do you remember at States last year? That girl who beat Lindsey?"

"Sure do. That girl was unstoppable."

Emily bounced on her toes. "She goes here now. She's a senior."

Fulton's eyebrows shot for the sky. "Paige McCullers is a Rosewood student? Why isn't she in my pool right now?"

"I'm not sure," said Emily. "She transferred late. She said she's ineligible."

The coach tapped her pen against the clipboard. "Well, she should be able to petition that. If she can prove she didn't transfer just to get an edge… why did she transfer?"

"Her parents moved here," said Emily.

A smile spread on Fulton's face. "Then she should be able to get an exception. Tell her to have her parents come in. The administration should be able to help them petition the athletics board."

"Right," said Emily. "Thanks, Coach."

She headed for the locker room. _A petition, huh?_ _I can handle that…_

* * *

"Emily, you're _on_ the swim team. Why do you need a petition to join it?" Mona eyed the other girl over her glasses as she stapled booklets. _Ka-chunk_, _swish_, pointed look, _ka-chunk_.

Emily fidgeted. "It's not for me. It's for a friend."

"And why can't this," Mona leaned forward, "_friend_ come get it herself?"

"I think she's given up," said Emily. "I want to surprise her. Maybe if someone else cares, it'll inspire her to do the same."

"Isn't that sweet." Mona said, the words dripping from her lips like honeyed venom. When Emily raised an eyebrow, she sighed. "All right, all right. I'll get the form." She flounced into the office behind her. Emily heard the sounds of papers being shuffled – _she probably found it already. She's probably just making me wait_ – then Mona returned, handing Emily a double-sided sheet.

Emily tucked it in her folder and smiled. She thanked Mona and headed home.

* * *

"So how was swimming, honey?" asked Pam. She and Wayne had finished asking Emily about the school day and were moving on to more fruitful topics.

Emily relaxed. She did well in school, but never well enough to satisfy her parents. Swimming was another beast entirely.

"Great," she said. "Coach said I've been improving."

"That's wonderful," said Wayne. "I guess all those lessons this summer paid off."

Emily smiled. "They did. Thank you so much." The lessons with a private instructor really had done wonders. She'd always been good, but now…

"Well, it sounds like you're going to swim your way into a scholarship at this rate," said her mother. Emily nodded.

"If I do really well at States, it could really happen. I know that Danby scout seemed interested."

"More than interested, honey," said her father. "I think if his bosses let him, he would have thrown a wad of cash at your feet then and there."

"Don't forget, you still have to get to States," said Pam, with a twinkle in her eye. She had no doubt that her daughter would lead the Sharks into a berth.

Emily leaned forward in her chair. "I think we have a great shot, mom. There's a new girl at the school, Paige McCullers. She's an amazing swimmer and I'm trying to get her to join the team."

Her mother flinched. Emily's face twisted in confusion. "What?"

"Nothing, honey." She set down her fork. "It's great that you'll have such a great swimmer on your team but… I remember that name. I just worry that a girl like that will overshadow you."

"She's not _that_ good," said Emily. _She _is _that_ _good. But that doesn't mean she shouldn't get to swim… _"And I've gotten so much better. I can hold my own in the pool."

"Of course you can, sweetheart," said Wayne. "You're just so… so easygoing."

"You don't think I'm competitive enough?"

"That's not what I'm saying." _That's _exactly _what you're saying. _"I'm just saying that scouts like to see a little tenacity." He shook his head. "Look, it sounds like this McCullers girl isn't even sure she wants to swim. Maybe you should respect that."

Emily dropped her eyes to the plate. "I think she wants to," she said. She pushed her food around her plate, lips sealed and eyes downcast. Her parents exchanged glances.

She rose from the table, making her excuses, and bolted for her room.

* * *

She slipped out later. Her parents didn't ask questions; it was Friday night, and that meant girls' night at Spencer's.

The dampness of the previous evening had lifted. The air was clear and thin and sharp, laden with the threat of winter. Emily felt a twinge in her nose and she flexed her fingers beneath her gloves.

Her phone rumbled in her pocket. "Hey," she said, cracked lips pulling into a smile.

"Emily! Babe, I got off work early! You should come to this party!"

Emily's smile faltered. "I'd love to, but you know I always go to Spencer's on Friday."

Samara pleaded. "Come on, it'll be fun. It's Friday night! I never get to have a fun Friday with you."

Emily stopped on the sidewalk, picking at her scarf with her free hand. "Well..."

"Pleeeease?"

Emily sighed, smile spreading. "Okay. You win. Where is it?"

"Really close! The address is..."

* * *

Emily walked through the wide-open front door. The foyer was crowded with people, all laughing and yelling and dancing to the music that surged through the walls and up through the floors. The beat pulsed in Emily's chest, willing her heart to match, and she stood rooted in place for a moment while the muscle and the music fought for dominance.

When they found some sort of equilibrium, she loosened her scarf and wandered into the building.

Samara found her, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a kiss. Emily giggled and Samara slipped her hand around her girlfriend's waist. "Missed you, babe," she said.

Emily pulled back, hands resting on Samara's shoulders. "I missed you, too." She let Samara take her hand and pull her aside, out of the thickest part of the crowd.

"Whose house is this? How did you end up in Rosewood tonight?"

"This kid I work with," said Samara. She worked nights at a nearby retail store and was a freshman at Hollis during the day. "Small world, huh?"

Emily laughed. "Seems like it. I'm glad you got the night off."

"Mm, me too." Samara nuzzled into Emily's neck, drawing a giggle. "Want me to get you something to drink?"

"I'm okay," said Emily. "I don't really feel like drinking."

Samara's expression flickered. "You okay, Em?"

Emily shrugged. "I'm fine. Just a little frustrated with my parents."

"So get a drink. You'll feel better." When Emily didn't move, Samara placed both hands on Emily's shoulders and looked into her girlfriend's face. "What happened?"

"They basically told me they think I'm a pushover."

Samara opened her mouth and closed it again. Emily's face fell. "You too?"

"Well..."

Emily slipped out from under Samara's hands. Samara frowned. "Emily, it's not a _bad_ thing. But sometimes you let people walk all over you."

"How is that not a bad thing?"

Samara pressed her lips together. Emily narrowed her eyes and started to walk away. Samara grabbed her wrist and she stopped, not looking at her girlfriend. The blonde slipped in close, resting her hands on Emily's hips, turning the girl to face her. "It's not a bad thing. It makes you cute," she said, leaning in to place a kiss on Emily's forehead, "and sweet."

"I sound like a baby. Or candy."

"Mm, like candy." Samara's lips dropped from Emily's forehead to her temple, then down to her jaw. Her fingers traced the waistband of Emily's jeans. Emily's skin shivered at her girlfriend's touch, but when Samara whispered, "let's go somewhere quieter," Emily pulled away.

Samara frowned. "I don't get you," she said. "You let people get away with anything, you let your friends basically dictate your life-"

"I don't-"

"-but when your _girlfriend_ wants to do anything, _that's_ when you remember how to say no."

The party rolled around them, bodies surging past, voices and music filling their ears and their lungs and their heads.

"I'm just not ready," said Emily in a whisper.

Like two statues, islands in a raging ocean, they stared across the expanse at each other until Emily lowered her eyes and Samara threw up her hands.

"I'm getting a drink," she said, turning on her heel and stalking away.

Emily did not move, at first. She traced the patterns in the oriental rug beneath her shoes - _someone spilled beer - _as Samara's words filtered into her head, twisting and dancing with the looks on her parents' faces. She could be strong. _I'm helping Paige, even though everyone has told me not to. Doesn't that count?_

She took a deep breath - grimacing immediately, as the sour scent of stale beer and sweat filled her nose - and left.

* * *

Spencer frowned at her phone.

"She didn't pick up?" asked Aria, flopping onto one of Spencer's couches.

"No. And she still hasn't responded to my text."

Hanna leaned on Spencer's counter, swinging her legs against the rungs of the stool. "It's girls' night. Emily _never _misses girls' night."

"Maybe she's with Samara," said Aria.

"No, silly, Samara has that thing on Fridays."

"Her _job_, Hanna?" said Spencer, rolling her eyes.

Hanna shrugged. "Yeah, that. Anyway, try again. There must be a reason."

Spencer leaned against the counter, eyes fixed on the phone in her hand. She made no move to dial Emily's number.

"What's up, Spence?" Aria sipped her drink.

"Was I too hard on her? About that Paige girl?"

Aria and Hanna glanced at each other. "I thought Paige was nice," said Hanna. "And Emily's not a cheater, you know that. I mean, Samara doesn't deserve her," she said, waving her hand as if to dismiss the irritating blonde from her thoughts, "but Emily would never do anything."

"But we don't even know this new girl. Emily said she knows about Samara, so why hang around like that? I think she still wants to make a move." Spencer shook her head. "And Emily might be too nice to tell her to back off."

Aria got up and refilled her cup, then rested her elbows on the counter. "I think Emily has to figure that out on her own."

"I just don't want her to get hurt. You know how she is. And you know how Samara is. Even if McCullers _doesn't_ try anything, if Samara thinks something's up, she's going to punish Emily for it."

Hanna scoffed. "Well, maybe then Em will finally dump her ass and find a girl who's hot _and_ a nice person. She's already got one lined up. I barely know her and I think Paige is an improvement over sour-puss Samara. And she's way hotter. I'd tap that."

Spencer dropped her phone and Aria paused with her drink halfway to her lips. Hanna rolled her eyes. "What? I meant if I was gay, you guys, geez."

Spencer opened her mouth to speak-

There was a knock at the door.

They all jumped, spinning to find the source of the noise, and found Emily, silhouette distorted through the glass. Spencer hurried over and Emily squeezed inside, rubbing the cold from her hands.

"Sorry I'm late," she said through chattering teeth. "I went to a party with Samara."

"I thought she worked on Friday," said Spencer, raising an eyebrow.

Emily laughed. "She does. She got the night off last minute."

"Don't worry, Spence," said Aria, smirking, "you didn't mess up memorizing Emily's girlfriend's schedule."

Spencer shot Aria a dirty look as Emily pulled off her gloves and scarf. They all settled onto the couch. As they began discussing movie choices, Spencer sat to the side and did not speak.

"Spencer!" said Hanna, shocking the girl from her pensive state. "Spence, you in there?"

"What? Sorry." Everyone's eyes were on her. She found Emily's. "I was just thinking... Em, I'm sorry for how I acted. You're free to be friends with whoever you want. I trust your judgment."

Emily smiled. "Thanks, Spence. And I trust yours, too. I think... I think I might be done with Samara."

Hanna was at Emily's side in an instant. "You broke up? Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Emily shook her head. "We didn't break up, but I think..." She took a breath. "I think we have to."

"What happened?" asked Aria.

"She wanted me to... she wanted to... well, you know. And she got really mad when I didn't want to."

"What a bitch," grumbled Hanna. No one disagreed.

"Good for you, Em," said Spencer. "Regardless of what I think of Samara, that's an awful thing to do to anyone. You're worth ten of her."

"Seriously," said Hanna. "Who needs her? You'll have girls throwing themselves at you. I can think of one..."

Emily's cheeks flushed, her mind drawn again to the events of the day before. _Has it only been a day? _As she remembered Paige, leaning in the open doorway, straddling the line between the comfort of the shop and the chaos of the rain, her friends exchanged smiles.

They settled back into their movie debate, and when Emily surfaced from the pool of reminisces, she had no idea of the moment that had transpired. She was not met by snarky comments or knowing smiles, and she let loose a tiny sigh of relief. _I have to be careful. I haven't broken up with Samara yet..._

* * *

**A/N:** All righty, three chapters down. Some actual Paige-Emily interaction in this one. Not a lot, but hopefully enough to tide you over. Trust me, they're going to be spending a_ lot_ more time together in coming chapters_._

I hope I'm not offending any Samara fans. I never particularly liked her, but I also didn't take much care in making her match the way she was in the show. She's just a hurdle for Emily to overcome. *shrugs*

As always, let me know what you think! I love comments, questions, criticism, impromptu poetry, whatever. Recipes. I dunno. It's your comment box, use it as you see fit.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thank you all for the lovely comments! :D Here's CHAPTER FOUR. Enjoy!

* * *

Paige started up the steps to the high school, as she had every morning since she'd started attending. No one called out to her. No one pulled her aside. It mattered little; Paige McCullers held her head high.

"Paige!"

She ignored the call at first. It sounded like her name, but she'd likely heard it wrong. The mind's natural tendency to search for familiar patterns had betrayed her more than once.

"Paige, wait up!"

That stopped her. She turned around, sucking in a breath as she laid eyes on a grinning Emily. The other girl's cheeks were rosy from the cold, her hair tousled by the wind. A smile crept across her own face and she had to drop her gaze.

_I'm so screwed_.

"What's up?" asked Paige as Emily slipped alongside her.

Emily had recognized Paige as she'd started climbing the steps. She'd run to catch up, lungs burning from the chilly air, and when Paige had looked down at her with _those_ eyes and _that _smile she'd felt a thrill shiver across her skin in a way that was unrelated to the piercing wind.

"I hope you don't think I'm weird," said Emily, reaching into her bag.

"Never," said Paige. She held the door open as Emily pulled out her folder. They headed for Emily's locker; as it turned out, Paige had passed right by it on her frantic morning hunt the week before.

As they drew to a halt, Emily pulled out the sheet that Mona had given her and handed it to Paige. "It's for you," she said. "To petition the athletic board. I talked to my coach and she said if you transferred because you moved, you're probably eligible to swim."

Paige stared at the paper, turning it over and over without really reading it. She clamped her lips together, locking her words behind them.

Emily's fingers worked at the hem of her shirt. She watched Paige, waiting for a response - any response. As the moments dragged on and Paige did not speak and did not tear her eyes from the sheet, Emily's fidgeting grew worse and worse.

"Paige? Is- is this okay? I didn't overstep any bounds, did I, because if I did, I-"

"Emily, this..." Paige shook her head and finally met Emily's gaze again. "I'm just so used to doing things myself, you know?" Her lip trembled and her jaw ached. She blinked.

Emily stepped forward. "Hey, it's okay," she said, wrapping Paige in a hug. A quick one, arms around Paige's shoulders and hands resting on the other girl's back. Paige shuddered once, twice beneath Emily's fingers before stepping away, snapping the embrace.

"Thanks," she said, sniffling. Her eyes were pink but she had not shed a tear. _Excellent work, McCullers. Catastrophe avoided. _"Hey, I guess this means we'll be teammates now."

Emily's smile warmed Paige from head to toe. "I guess so. Better bring your A-game. I won't go easy on you just because you're my friend."

Paige arched an eyebrow. "Hey, now. You're the one who needs to be worried. Paige McCullers takes no prisoners."

"Does Paige McCullers always talk about herself in the third person?" Emily laughed, leaning back against her locker, and Paige leaned in as she joined in Emily's mirth. When the bell rang, their toes were inches apart and their faces not much further. Paige reeled back.

"Well, ah, gotta go to class and all." She cleared her throat as heat flooded her cheeks. Emily shook her head, biting her lip as the flustered Paige gave a stilted wave and darted down the hallway.

* * *

Emily was the first one to the cafeteria, as usual. While she waited for the others, she stared at her phone. Samara had blatantly ignored every attempt Emily had made to contact her, and by Saturday evening, Emily had given up. She'd left the house that morning in a foul mood, brightening only when she'd caught sight of Paige. Without the other girl beside her, the irritation had seeped back in.

Hanna slipped into the seat beside her. "No word from the bitch yet?"

"She's not a bitch."

"Yes she is, Emily. Only a bitch pressures her girlfriend like that, and you know it. The sooner you break up with her, the better."

Emily groaned. "I'm working on it."

She turned her attention to her lunch, poking at the... well, it was edible, at least. Allegedly. Then Hanna practically jumped from her seat, hand flapping in the air, and Emily flinched.

"What are you-?"

"Paige! Paige, over here!"

Emily found Hanna's target, her gloom lifting just a bit as a smile flooded Paige's face. Then she glanced at her phone again.

Trapped. There was no way to win. Not yet.

Paige settled in, her tray knocking Emily's and her toes clipping Emily's boot. Spencer and Aria soon followed, and the group's typical chatter ensued. Paige managed to break into the conversation every once in a while, though from the looks the other three were exchanging, Emily was sure they were leaving deliberate openings for her to do so.

It could have been merely friendly, a way to make a new student feel welcome.

But this was Hanna, and Spencer, and Aria, and this was Paige, and this was Emily on the verge of being single again. This was a conspicuously silent cellphone, a blonde bitch who'd stomped on their friend's heart for the last time, and a new girl who had made no secret of her attraction.

It was not merely friendly. It could never be merely friendly. Not with them. Not like this.

Paige laughed at something that Aria said and caught Emily's eye. The other smiled, but only just. Paige leaned over her tray. "Hey," she said. "Do you think I could meet your coach? And the team?"

Emily considered a moment before nodding. "I think that would be all right. We have a practice today. If you come by the pool you can observe and I can introduce you after."

"Awesome. It's a date, then." She turned her attention back to the conversation. When she turned away, Emily glanced down at her phone once more.

Though she pretended otherwise, Paige caught the look. _Smooth, McCullers_. It had been a reflexive comment, something she'd picked up years ago when she'd first come out to tease her straight friends. "It's a date!" she'd say, and watch them squirm.

Emily hadn't squirmed; for that matter, she hadn't seemed to have reacted at all. Just looked back down at that damn phone, that same dejected look on her face.

It really hadn't been intentional, but once the words had slipped out, she kind of hoped there would be _some_ reaction. _She's definitely been flirting with me. I _know_ she has. _Whether the flirting was conscious or unconscious, Paige was unsure. She wasn't one to break up a relationship, not even for a girl like Emily, but she wasn't afraid to test that line, either.

_Well, the line's been drawn. No more flirting._

When it came time to leave, she scooped up her tray and hurried off. She did not look back.

* * *

Paige leaned forward, elbows propped on her knees. Her feet bounced against the concrete beneath her feet. The shouts of the swimmers echoed tinny and loud in the open space, ricocheting off the ceiling and the choppy surface of the water. She gulped down a breath of the chlorinated oxygen. Her lungs itched from the chemical-laden air.

Then wet feet slapped against the floor and she looked up to find Emily Fields, grinning and dripping in front of her.

"So?" said Emily, turning her goggles over and over between her fingers.

"I missed this," said Paige, dropping her eyes from Emily to the shimmering blue water. Emily's teammates cut across her vision, arms slicing and bodies coiling and uncoiling as they hauled themselves further and faster. "Thanks again."

Emily started to speak but Coach Fulton interrupted her.

"Miss Fields! Nice work today, as usual. And who might this be?"

Paige popped upright, extending her hand and introducing herself. Fulton grinned, shaking Paige's hand. "I've heard about you, Miss McCullers. And I've heard you might be joining the team?"

"Working on it," said Paige. "I might be a bit rusty, though. I've never been this long out of the pool."

"Well, once you and your parents get through the red tape, we'll get you back in prime condition." Fulton continued to talk and Paige nodded along, but her mind skipped over that one word: parents.

_Do I really have to involve them?_

As soon as Fulton left, Paige pulled out the form. She flipped it over, scanning down the page.

_Shit_.

At the very bottom, she found the wrench in the machine. Parent/Guardian Signature.

"What's up?" asked Emily. She tried to catch Paige's eye. "Paige?"

"Nothing. Nothing, sorry." Paige jerked her head up. "I have to get going, though."

"Yeah, of course," said Emily. Paige began gathering up her things and Emily chewed her lip. As Paige began to leave, she stopped her. "Wait. Give me your phone."

Paige obliged, knitting her eyebrows. Emily grinned as she added herself as a contact and sent a short message to her own number. "No more playing hide and seek in the hallways," she said. "Let me know if I can help out with the petition, okay?"

The other girl shoved her phone in her pocket and sighed. "Yeah. I will. Thanks." She tried to smile but even she could tell the effort was weak. Without another word, she fled.

* * *

Nick McCullers droned on about… something. Paige wasn't sure. She'd started tuning him out ages ago.

"Paige?" His gruff voice startled her from her thoughts. Her eyes darted to his, then to her mother's, as they sat down to dinner. _They can both stare at me, but they can barely look at each other._

"What?" She growled the question, slouching in her chair.

"I asked how your day was." Her father jabbed his fork into his food, eyes fixed on his daughter.

"Fine," she said. His knife scraped against the plate. He chewed. Swallowed. Her mother sipped her drink. Paige rapped her fingers on the table. "I want to join the swim team," she said.

Her father frowned. "Paige, we discussed this. You need to improve your grades. Swimming is just a distraction."

She pursed her lips and he looked away. "Please, Dad?"

"I said no, Paige." He set down his fork. "Don't ask again."

Paige turned to her mother. The woman's eyes were fixed on her plate. "Mom?" No reply.

Gritting her teeth, Paige scraped her chair back along the floor and flung herself upright. She grabbed her plate and marched to the kitchen, dumping it in the sink.

She thought she heard it shatter but she didn't turn around; she just stormed to the stairs and began to climb.

"Paige!" her father shouted. She heard his thundering steps. "Paige, come back here!" She was in her room. She slammed the door.

He was on the other side. His feet stretched shadows across the gash of light beneath the door. "Paige!" he said again. "Open this door."

She crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her head. He said her name once more, lowering his voice. "I'm sorry, kiddo," he said. There was a soft sound, his hand dropping from the door frame, maybe. Then he was gone, shuffling down the hall and down the stairs.

* * *

Emily bent over her textbook. She read the same sentence over and over. She squeezed her eyes together and glanced at the clock. _Only 8pm… can't sleep yet._

The swimmer hefted the book from her desk and flopped into the window seat. _A change of location might help_.

As she propped the book on her knees, her phone danced across the desk. Once, twice. She sprang from the seat, spilling the book on the floor, and seized the phone. Samara.

"Where have you been?" Her eyes flashed as she yelled into the phone.

"Can I see you?" Samara's voice filtered through the speaker. "Can I come over?"

"What if I don't want to see you?" said Emily, spitting the words as though they seared her tongue.

Samara sighed. "I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But I want to talk to you face-to-face."

Emily heaved a sigh. "Fine." _I'm not the kind of girl who breaks up with someone over the phone. _She hung up and tossed her phone on the bed with a snort_._

She waited for Samara at the window, and when she saw the girl's car pull into her driveway, she floated down the stairs and out the door.

Samara did not speak at first, not after Emily swept into her car with all the force of a hurricane and not after Emily fixed her with a stare that could have melted iron.

It wasn't until Emily drew a breath to speak that Samara moved her lips.

"I'm sorry," she said, staring out the windshield. Night had completely fallen, wrapping the car in its embrace. Inside, they had only the glow of Samara's dashboard, the light of the radio that still hummed with a top 40 station just above the threshold of hearing.

"I don't care," said Emily.

Samara's eyes gleamed in the blue light, eyelashes glinting as she blinked. "I don't blame you."

"I don't care if you do blame me. I don't care anymore, Samara. I'm tired of this."

The blonde leaned back, tipping her head against the headrest. Her hands hung from the steering wheel, anchored only by residual friction. "What are you saying?"

Emily took a deep breath. "I'm saying…" She closed her eyes and let it go. "I'm saying it's over. I'm done."

Samara bit her cheek as tears welled in her eyes. "Don't." She clapped her hand over her mouth. "Emily."

Emily's sternness faltered as Samara hiccupped. _As out of line as she was, I did still care for her. I do._

She reached out, resting her hand on her now-ex-girlfriend's arm. Samara flinched, then squared her jaw and whirled around, grabbing Emily and pulling her into a kiss.

It was so familiar, the way their lips fit together. Practiced. Despite the hot tears rolling down Samara's cheeks, despite the way she clutched at Emily, there was that nugget of comfort.

But Emily remembered the party, the derision in Samara's eyes, how small she had felt. She reeled back. Their lips tore apart and she bumped her head on the glass.

"I'm done," she said. "It's over." Her hands fumbled with the latch. She stumbled out of the car when the door opened, slamming it as hard as she could and running for the house. Samara shouted her name behind her, rolled down the window to yell, but Emily bolted inside and locked the door.

She watched from the window, peeking through the blinds, as Samara tried to call her. Once. She felt it in her pocket. Twice. She took it out. Two missed calls. Thrice. A voicemail.

She deleted it without listening.

Samara sat in the driveway for a while, leaning on the steering wheel and staring at the house. Emily waited. At last, after what seemed like hours, the blonde revved the engine and drove away, taillights streaking down the darkened street.

* * *

Paige paced back and forth, petition form in her hands. It was crinkled and creased from her worrying, folding it and unfolding it, gripping it so tightly that it crumpled beneath her fingers.

They had said no.

The empty line – Parent/Guardian Signature – gaped beneath her thumb.

She flicked the sheet on the bed.

Paige had just begun her homework when her phone buzzed. A call. Emily.

_I have Emily's phone number._

Paige grinned and answered.

"Hey," said Emily, sniffling. Paige's smile vanished.

"Whoah, are you okay?" she asked. There was a pause.

"I'll be fine. I just wanted to know what the verdict was on the swim petition."

"Oh. Well…" Paige picked up the form again.

Emily gave a strangled laugh. "Paige, I really need some good news right now."

She let the sheet flutter down again. "Is me joining the team good news?"

"That would be _great_ news."

Paige glanced at the paper one last time and shrugged. "In that case… I'm joining the team."

She couldn't help but grin at the laughter on the other end.

They talked for a while about swimming and school, until a lull crept into the conversation and Paige couldn't stop herself. "Do you mind if I ask why you needed good news?"

"Oh."

Paige leaned back on her bed, drumming her fingers over her stomach. She shifted her legs. The petition crinkled beneath her heel. She frowned at it, but snapped back to attention at Emily's voice. "I told you about my girlfriend, right?"

_You certainly did._ "Yeah?"

"Well… we broke up." Emily's voice quavered and Paige pulled herself up and her legs beneath her to sit cross-legged. She pulled a pillow across her lap and hugged it against her chest.

"Oh, man. I'm sorry. That sucks."

Emily laughed and Paige raised an eyebrow. "Not really," said Emily. "It was a long time coming. She wasn't right for me. And I broke up with her, so there's that."

"Are you happy?" asked Paige.

"I'm getting there," replied the other girl. "I feel free, at least."

"I'm glad to hear it. And if you need anything… well, I'll be here for you."

"Thanks, Paige."

They exchanged a few more words before Emily declared that she needed to sleep and they wished each other a good night. Paige flopped back on the bed as she hung up, glancing at her clock.

_Oh, geez. Two hours? I met this girl… Thursday, Friday… four days ago._

She stared at the ceiling before she remembered the sheet at the foot of her bed.

In a flash she was up, seizing the paper and slamming it onto her desk. She snatched up a pen, bit off the cap with her teeth, and let it hover above that empty line.

She touched the tip to the paper and steadied her breathing.

_Screw them. I'm going to swim._

The first thing she did the next morning was march to the administrators' office. The girl behind the desk gave her a pointed look when she offered forth the crumpled, dog-eared sheet, but Paige returned the look with what she hoped was an intimidating one of her own.

Mona laid the sheet atop her to-do pile and Paige strode into the hallway, task complete.

The sheet made its way through the system. Bespectacled eyes peered at it. It gathered more signatures. It took a trip courtesy of the United States Postal Service.

No one paid much attention to the signature. The last name matched the student's. The handwriting was confident.

The sheet was pressed in the bed of a copy machine. As it made its way into a filing cabinet in a distant Pennsylvania suburb, a pair of copies zipped back to Rosewood. One made its way into the hands of Paige McCullers, who shredded it as soon as her spot on the team was confirmed.

The other found its way to the desk of one Mona Vanderwaal. She did her duty and filed it away.

It slept, day after day, in the filing cabinet. The forged signature itched, but it was silent.

It waited.

It would not have to wait long.

* * *

**A/N:** There we go! Emily's made her decision about Samara and Paige has decided to just do what she wants. Of course, neither one is going to get out of this unscathed. What would be the point of reading if there were no conflict? But I'll let them think they're fine... for now.

As always, gimme yo feedback! I love reading it. I still get that nervous, sinking feeling in my stomach when I see an email notification for a review. And then usually my fears are unfounded, because you're all lovely people. So: comments, reviews, questions, concerns, recipes, poems, rants, your world history essay on Archduke Franz Ferdinand*, all are welcome! See you all next week!

*Please don't send me your world history essay on Archduke Franz Ferdinand; I'd rather not relive that.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. You guys are all awesome. You make me feel like a star. *pulls on movie star sunglasses*

Anyway, here's Chapter 5!

* * *

She dove into the water and it split at her touch, peeling away from her and closing up again around her, hugging her like a glove. She kicked and pulled, dragging herself forward. Her muscles acted of their own accord, remembering hours upon hours of practice and training.

She tucked into a flip and powered away from the wall. The water swallowed everything else. Air rushed in and out of her lungs. The world shrank to size of a pool lane.

Her hand slapped the wall and she popped out of the water, sucking down air and grinning.

Fulton clapped as she walked over.

"That was excellent, Paige. You're a little rusty, but clearly you don't forget what's important."

"Never could, Coach," she said. She pulled her goggles away and wiped her face, flinging droplets against the bleachers. "I was born to swim."

Emily could barely stop herself skipping over to Paige's side. She grinned at the other girl as Fulton declared the practice over and ushered everyone into the locker room.

"It's that time of year again, ladies," she said. "Since our seniors left, we're going to need a captain. Do we have any volunteers or nominations?"

Emily stayed silent as the team nominated two other swimmers. Fulton caught the girl's eyes, giving her star a pointed look, but Emily pressed her lips together and gave a tiny shake of her head.

Paige squinted at the exchange. Her hand shot into the air. "I nominate Emily," she said. A murmur of assent rippled through the gathered group.

Emily turned to Paige, jaw dropping. Paige held up her hands in apology. "Come on," she said. "You'd be so good at it."

"But…"

"We all have to vote, right? You can trust our judgment."

Emily looked at the crowd, chewing her lip. Those who had overheard reiterated what Paige had said, and those who hadn't gave her small looks and gestures of encouragement.

"Okay," said Emily in a small voice. She tried again, louder. "I accept."

Everyone clapped and when there were no more nominees, Fulton urged them to settle down.

"All right, all right. Now, in past years we've made all the nominees work together to organize a fundraiser. Then the team will vote. Until then, you'll act as co-captains. Support your teammates and be the best swimmers you can be. Sound good? Right. Sharks on three!"

#

Paige waited on the bleachers for Emily. She fiddled with her phone for a bit. She stretched and walked around the perimeter of the pool. She laid down on the bleachers and stared at the ceiling.

Emily's face appeared right above hers and Paige flinched, grabbing at her chest.

"Geez, Emily," she managed to say through ragged breaths.

The other girl only laughed.

Paige waited for her pulse to settle. "So, nominated for captain, huh?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I wonder how that happened." She put her hands on her hips and gave Paige a disapproving stare, but Paige could barely repress a laugh. Emily joined in. "You're terrible," she said. "I don't know how you convinced me to do this. It's so not my thing."

"Oh, come on. It _so_ is," said Paige, imitating the other swimmer. "I meant it. You're the second-best swimmer on this team-"

Emily feigned an offended gasp.

"-and you're a hard worker. You care about the other girls. Everyone looks up to you. I've been on this team for, like, one day and I can see that."

"First of all, I'm the best swimmer on this team. Second... thanks. You're right. Everyone's always telling me I need to be more confident. But they always just say what I'm doing wrong. You... you see what I do right. And you seem so sure that I can be better."

Paige shrugged. "You can. Anyway. What's the deal with this fundraiser?"

Emily smiled. "It's going to be fun."

"Are you making a pun? A _fun_draiser, har-har?" She poked Emily with her elbows and giggled. Emily let out an exasperated laugh.

"Ugh, that's horrible! I wouldn't have made friends with you if I knew your sense of humor was so bad."

"Aw, come on, it was kind of funny. You laughed." Paige's face drooped in an exaggerated plea.

"I laughed at how ridiculous it was." Emily rolled her eyes, biting her lip to stop another laugh from bursting free. "Anyway, will you help? With the fundraiser?"

Paige stopped walking. "Aren't you supposed to do this on your own?"

The other girl fidgeted. "Yes, but only the planning part. I need someone to, you know, help me get everything together."

"You need someone to carry things for you." Paige tilted her head, smirking at the other swimmer, whose cheeks had gone bright red. She laughed. "Well, it's just your luck that in addition to being the best swimmer in this school, I'm also a champion box-carrier and shopping cart-pusher."

Emily's face lit up, her smile spreading from cheek to cheek. She flung her arms around Paige's neck, exclaiming her thanks. Paige hesitated, eyes wide with shock, before wrapping her arms around Emily's back and returning the embrace.

She pulled Emily close. One hand lay flat on the girl's shoulder, the other found the small of her back. Emily's Sharks jacket crinkled beneath her fingers. Chlorine hair tickled Paige's nose. Chlorine and shampoo and that _something_. The same scent that Paige had found in Emily's shirt as she sobbed like a baby in her room the night they'd met.

Someone stepped away first. Someone let their hand slide down, fingers trailing across a shoulder blade, over a hip, breaking away to fall useless at their side.

It was a slow break. A break first of hands. Then, a separate motion entirely, a break of distance. Paige stepped back, then Emily. Then a break of eyes; as they moved away, they found each other. It was only when Paige realized that she could not breathe that she let her head fall loose on her shoulders.

Emily's hands found the strap of her bag. She clenched and unclenched it, watching Paige look away. When Paige lifted her eyes, Emily spun around, before the weakness could strike her again, before her legs could threaten to melt beneath her.

_I've barely known this girl a week. This is crazy._

She cleared her throat and they left the school, silence clinging to their heels like their own shadows.

#

"I gotta say, Em," said Hanna, leaning over the table, "you're taking this break up really well."

Emily shrugged. Spencer sat down beside her with a fresh cup of coffee. "Why should she be torn up about it? As far as I'm concerned, she just excised a malignant tumor."

"Yeah but that's still, like, major surgery!"

They bickered for a while. Emily tried to tune them out, focusing on the book in front of her. Aria, she noted, was doing so with a good deal of success. But then, her nose was buried in a book. There wasn't much that could snap her free of that spell.

"I was just over her, Hanna," said Emily, cutting Spencer off before she could begin to explain the finer details of local anesthesia. "It's awful, but I started to move on the day..." She swallowed. "The day she left me at work. I knew all along that she wasn't good but that was the day I saw it. _Really_ saw it."

Her friends gave her supportive smiles and they dove back into the reading, Hanna peppering the air with candid observations and honest, if shallow, questions. It was a familiar rhythm and Emily flew through the pages until Hanna tapped her on the arm.

"So," she said, leaning her head against the hand she'd propped on the table, "what next?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Hanna, dragging out the words, "are you going to fly solo? Or are you on the rebound?"

Emily stared at the table, tracing patterns across its surface with a lazy finger. _Am I on the rebound? Is that what this is?_

"I don't know," she said. "How do you know if it's too soon?"

"Have someone in mind?" asked Hanna, with a wink. Spencer rolled her eyes.

"Em," said Aria, lifting her head from the book in her hands. "You have to do what makes you happy. The important thing is that you find someone you want to be with because they make you better, not just because they make you feel good. If you find that person right away..." She shrugged. "Why wait?"

#

Emily sat in her car and dialed Paige's number. "I'm here," she said, glancing up at the house. She was parked in the other girl's driveway. "Should I come in?"

"No." Paige blurted the answer faster than she'd intended. She could almost hear Emily's shock in the silence that buzzed over the line. "I'll be right out."

She was already mostly dressed; she yanked on her last sneaker as she hopped out the door.

"Ready!" she said as she slipped in beside Emily. They set out for their destination, one of the retail stores close to town. Emily had deliberately chosen Samara's employer's biggest competitor.

Paige glanced at Emily as they drove, but the other girl's eyes were fixed on the road. "I like your car," she said, patting the door. '_I like your car?' Grade A conversationalist, you are. _Emily smiled.

"Thanks. It's actually my mom's. She lets me take it sometimes."

"That's nice of her. I'm stuck with my bike. My parents never let me take their cars." She drummed her fingers on the console. The radio burbled and other cars zipped by, the air whining as they hurtled past. Paige's seat shivered beneath her as the car rolled over cracks and bumps.

Emily's fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The silence billowed in the cabin, carried by the cloying air rushing from the heating vents. She spared a glance at Paige from the corner of her eye. Snap to, snap back. The lines of the road slipped beside them, staccato bolts stretching like a cat after a nap just before they disappeared into the mirrors.

"Why didn't you want me in your house?"

Paige snapped out of her stupor, breaths quickening and heart racing at Emily's question. She opened and closed her mouth, floundering like a fish out of water.

"It's…"

"You can trust me," said Emily.

Paige frowned. "I barely know you." She stared at herself in the side mirror. Frowning, jaw set, eyes shrinking beneath curling brows.

Emily pursed her lips. "That's not true."

"I just met you. I don't think it's been a week."

"That doesn't mean you don't know me." Emily took in a slow breath and it trembled in her lungs. She let it out just as slowly. "You see me better than anyone."

Paige played with her fingers in her lap. "I just… I don't think I'm doing anything special. I just pay attention."

"Whatever you're doing, you're the only one who does it. You know me. Can you trust me?"

Paige stared at her hands. "My parents are…" She shook her head. "My parents are a mess. And I'm a mess. No one needs to see that."

"You're not a mess."

"Not in front of you." Paige chewed her lip. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the world swirling past them.

Neither spoke anymore. Emily pulled into the parking lot of the store and turned off the engine, but she remained glued to her seat. The engine ticked and popped as it shrugged off its heat. The cabin air began to freeze.

Her fingers were like icicles, still wrapped around the steering wheel. Her muscles had gone rigid. She thought about moving, but nothing happened.

Shoppers walked past, wire carts jingling over cracks in the asphalt.

"I don't feel like a mess when I'm with you," said Paige. Her words came out slow like molasses. "I forget about all of it. You make me feel normal." Her voice quivered on the last word, scraping out of her throat and balancing on her lips. She pressed them together as if to hold it in, as if it was glass and might shatter if it fell.

She glanced up at the roof of the car and sighed. "Come on."

Before Emily could stop her, she leapt out of the car and headed for the store.

Emily hustled to catch up as Paige's long legs carried her forward. The other girl shoved her hands in her pockets, tugging her jacket taut about her shoulders.

She drew alongside Paige so that their elbows knocked. Paige glanced at her. Emily smiled.

Paige swallowed. She returned the smile.

#

As Paige grabbed the last bag out of Emily's car, the girl in question popped her head out from her front door.

"My mom wants to know if you'd like to stay for dinner," she said.

Paige closed the trunk and shuffled up the driveway, arms laden with their purchases. Her muscles strained but she kept a straight face. "Yeah, absolutely," she said.

As she entered the house, Pam Fields bustled into the hallway to greet her. The older woman peppered Paige with questions about swimming and school, a smile on her face. When she began to inquire after Paige's parents, Emily cleared her throat and escorted Paige upstairs.

They went to Emily's room and tried to discuss the fundraiser, though the conversation soon derailed itself. Emily perched herself on her bed, grinning at the girl who had curled herself into the window seat, head propped at one end with her knees tucked in. The dying fall light seeped in around her, casting her in shadow. When she turned to squint out the window, the sun peeked out around her, setting her profile aflame.

Emily pressed her lips together and tried to remember how breathing worked.

Dinner was easy until Wayne mentioned Danby.

"I still don't know if I want to go there," said Emily.

Wayne raised an eyebrow. "Danby's a great school."

"I know it is," she said with a shrug. "But I don't know if it's the right school for me."

"Honey, we can't afford to be picky," said her mother. "Danby has a lot to offer, especially if their scout is true to his word. A scholarship is really important."

"You're right," said Emily. Her eyes fell and Paige frowned. Emily's voice disappeared after that, squeaking out only in the occasional _yes_ or _no_. Paige engaged the adults in conversation, and the three of them managed to carry through until Emily began to clean the dishes. Paige jumped up and offered to help, insisting when the Fields' assured her she didn't need to.

Alone in the kitchen, Paige asked Emily if they could take a walk.

The sun had dipped beneath the horizon by the time they stepped onto the Fields' front porch, and the world wallowed in the purple pallor of twilight. Paige pulled her beanie down over her ears and stuffed her gloved hands in her pockets, but the wind gusted and needled through her jacket. Beside her, Emily shivered.

"Sorry," said Paige. "I didn't realize it would be so freaking cold."

"It's fine," said Emily.

Paige exhaled and her clouded breath streamed towards the sky. She looked up. A sprinkling of stars danced above them. "Where _do_ you want to go to school?" she asked.

"Somewhere a lot farther than Danby." Emily kicked at the leaves that lay like a carpet over the sidewalk.

"Me too," said Paige. "I've always wanted to go to school in California or something. As far from my parents as possible."

Emily glanced up at the other girl. "I don't really have a reason. I just want to go somewhere different. Somewhere new."

"Nothing wrong with that."

Emily stopped, freezing in place. Paige stopped and turned to look at the other girl. A streetlight blazed orange above them.

"Then why won't my parents even listen to the idea?"

Paige shrugged. "You haven't made your case. Fight for it."

Emily stared into the darkness. Her breath shimmered and her hair shone bronze beneath the streetlight. She looked up, eyes black against the glare.

Paige waited, shoulders curled against the still-gusting wind. Shadows and light clashed on her face, slicing along her cheekbones and the sharp angle of her jaw.

"I don't know how." Emily's brows knit together and she lowered her head, and her face slipped into gloom beneath the curtain of her hair.

"Sure you do. You're strong." Paige planted herself in front of the other girl and pulled her fist from her pocket. "You broke up with Samara," she said, extending one finger. "You're running for swim team captain." Two fingers. "And you've done so much for me, even though I know it rubbed some people the wrong way." She wiggled all three fingers. "That's just three moments, and that's just in the past week."

A smile cracked Emily's mask and she looked up at Paige, eyes twinkling. "It's a fluke."

"It's not a fluke!"

"How would you know?"

Paige rocked back and shoved her hands in her pockets. "As you said, I _know_ you. So I know you did all of those things yourself."

Emily bit back her smile but it burst out anyway, half her lip caught in her teeth and the other curling wide. Paige grinned as Emily's eyes met hers and she bounced on her toes. She held the gaze, heart beating against her ribs like her father's fist against her door, and it was all she could do to hold the door closed. She dipped her head and Emily stepped forward instantly, legs moving of their own volition as her lungs twisted into knots.

But as her soles crunched through the leaves, her cellphone rattled in her pocket against her keys, and the tinny jingle echoed in the canyon between them. Emily stepped back.

With an apology, she glanced down at the caller, and suddenly the helium that had been pulsing through her veins moments before turned to lead. Her heart gave an ugly twist, straining against the sudden weight.

"I have to take this," she said in a small voice. Paige's face had gone hard again, lips pressed together.

The phone buzzed again, glowing in Emily's glove. Paige shrugged. "I'll see you around," she said.

"Wait," said Emily. The phone quivered with impatience. Emily darted forward, sneakers shuffling through the leaves. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Paige's cheek.

Then she pulled away and raised the phone to her ear. She gave Paige one last tiny smile. One little wave. She turned back toward her house.

Paige watched her go. She watched her slip from their island beneath the streetlight into the umber beyond, one minute there and one minute not. Emily's voice, muffled beyond comprehension, floated past her on the wind.

Paige reached her hand to her cheek. She frowned. She pulled off her glove, and she touched her cheek again.

It was cold. She knew it was cold, and the air snapped at her fingers with its icy teeth as soon as they were exposed to it. Her breath crystallized in front of her eyes. It had to be cold.

It didn't feel cold.

It didn't feel cold at all. All Paige could feel, as she pressed her fingers to her skin, was heat.

* * *

**A/N: **And there's another chapter down! :) Things are building between these two! I wonder what's going to happen...

Tune in next week for MORE COOL THINGS like EMOTIONS and FIGHTING and STUFF. In the meantime, tell me what you thought of this chapter/the whole thing so far! The good, the bad, the ugly... lay it on me. Your comments are my fuel. I've got two more chapters fully written after this one and half of #8, but I expect to FINISH MY NOVEL (!) this weekend, and then I'll be taking a two-week break from it before I burrow into the EditCave, and during that break I intend to focus my writing energies on this story and maybe The Rosewood, as well. Because I can't NOT write. It's weird to not write.

Anyway! I've rambled. See you next week for chapter six!


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:** **You open your email. There is an unread message: FanFiction - Chapter: Wrecks and Regrets Ch6 by Cowpuppy.**_

_ Click email_

**_You open the email. There is a link to the new chapter of Cowpuppy's fanfic._**

_ Click link_

**_You click the link, opening the new chapter in your web browser._**

_ Read chapter_

* * *

Paige watched Emily scurry from the locker room. She shut her locker and leaned her head against the door, closing her eyes as her skin pressed into the cool metal.

They had barely spoken since Emily had kissed her cheek on the sidewalk.

_I swear, I'll kill whoever made that phone call._

As she hefted her bag over her shoulder, someone called her name.

"Hey, Coach," she said as she faced the speaker, shifting from one foot to the other.

Coach Fulton watched her new swimmer, expression still. "Can I see you in my office, Paige?"

Paige gulped and followed the older woman. Fulton shut the door behind them and urged Paige into a seat.

"What's up?" asked Paige, gripping the bottom of her chair. _This is not good. This is not good._

"Paige, you're a fantastic swimmer. We're all really glad to have you on the team."

Paige winced. "But?"

Fulton leaned back and sighed. "But... Paige, your grades are just barely above the minimum required to participate in athletics at this school."

The swimmer nodded slowly as Fulton continued. "Now, you're still allowed to keep swimming, but I don't want to see this continue. I know you're a bright girl, and your teachers seem to think so, too."

"You talked to my teachers?"

"I did. And they think you can do better."

Paige nodded. "I will. I'll do better." She rose from the seat, snatching her bag and darting for the door.

"Great," said Fulton as Paige began to leave. "And you know that if there's anything you ever want to talk about, my door is open."

But the girl was already gone.

* * *

She reached her bike, only to find Spencer waiting.

"Hey." Spencer stood in front of her, arms crossed. "What's wrong with Emily?"

Paige took a step back. "I don't know. She hasn't talked to me in a few days."

"Not since you went on that shopping trip." Spencer narrowed her eyes. Her hair trailed in the wind. She tucked it behind her ear. "Did you say something to her?"

"No!" Paige shoved her hands in her pockets and scowled.

Spencer drew herself up to her full height. "I'll say this once," she said. "I don't know what your _game_ is but if you hurt Emily, you'll regret it."

Paige laughed. "Is that what you're worried about? Listen: I would _never_ hurt Emily."

The other girl lowered her hackles, sinking away from her erstwhile opponent. Paige's fingers twisted around a piece of lint in her pocket. Spencer shook her head. "You'll never be able to keep that promise."

"Watch me," Paige snapped, brows furrowed, and the wind nipped at every crease around her eyes. Spencer swelled in front of her, riposte on the tip of her tongue. Paige shook her head and stepped away again. "Sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't yell. But I _do_ mean it. You know her. You know why it's so easy to care about her. I get it."

"She's our Emily," said Spencer. "Mine and Hanna's and Aria's. If you ever break your promise, you'll have to deal with more than just me."

Paige smiled. "I know. But, you know something?"

Spencer arced an eyebrow.

"She doesn't need protecting. Emily's tougher than anyone gives her credit for. Excuse me." She slipped past Spencer to her bike. Her fingers worked the lock. She pulled the bike free. She gave a terse wave and a smile, and biked away.

Spencer stood by the bike rack, watching the new girl disappear. The wind tugged her hair free of her ear. She tucked it back in place, turned on her heel, and strode away.

* * *

Emily drummed her fingers on the table and glanced at her phone. Five more minutes. She sipped her coffee and winced. Still just a bit too hot.

Samara slipped into the Brew just on time.

"Emily," she said, smiling. Emily stood and allowed herself to be pulled into a hug.

"What do you want?"

Samara settled down across from her ex. "Can't we just chat for a bit?"

"Samara..." Emily shook her head and drew a deep breath. The other girl sighed.

"Em, we left things so... badly. I don't want that to be the last memory I have of us."

"What do you want me to say? Oh, hi, Samara, how's your week been? What have you been up to?"

Samara leaned back. "Something like that."

"I don't think I can do that." Emily stared at her coffee as it steamed between her fingers. Samara worked the fringe of her scarf.

"Why not?" she asked. "Why would you agree to come if you can't even manage that?"

Emily worked her thumb over the coffee lid. She traced its lines, the text pressed into its surface. Caution.

She lifted her eyes to Samara. "Because for some stupid reason, I still feel like I owe you something."

"I'm the one who owes you an apology. I owe you so many apologies."

"I could fill a pool with your apologies. One more won't change anything."

Samara bounced her legs under the table and her fingers dug into her jeans. "It worked before, Emily. I know I messed up, a lot, but it _worked_."

"It was falling apart at the seams. I tried to hold it together for so long. I always blamed myself for our fights but you were just as guilty. And I deserve better! I deserve more than you."

Samara's legs stopped bouncing. She lifted a hand and worked it through her hair, eyes distant and lips pressed in a line. "It was the day you met that girl."

Emily reeled back in her seat. "What?"

"I knew there was something going on. I knew it."

"What are you talking about?"

Samara's eyes flashed and her lips pulled into a snarl. "I think you checked out before you ended it. And I think it had a lot to do with that girl you met at the Brew."

Emily's hand shook and her coffee burbled through the cover, running down the side of the cup and over her thumb. "Paige had nothing to do with it," she said, but she could not meet Samara's eyes.

The other girl scoffed. "You've always been a horrible liar. God." She shook her head, fighting back tears. "I'm so stupid. I knew you were a little bit pathetic, Emily. It was kind of cute. But I never thought you'd _cheat_ on me."

"I never-!"

Samara was up from her chair, hauling her bag over her shoulder. "I don't want to hear it." Her blond hair bounced as she shook her head and backed away from the table.

"Samara!" But the other woman had darted from the shop, leaving a bewildered Emily behind.

_Pathetic? My own girlfriend thought I was pathetic._

Emily rested her head in one hand and dragged her thumb over the opening of the coffee lid. The thin plastic grated against her skin. She lifted the coffee and took a sip. She grimaced. It had already gone cold.

* * *

Paige squinted and rubbed her forehead as she stared down at her open textbook. For all Fulton's reassurances that she was a 'bright girl,' she had made no headway on her most recent assignment.

She leaned back in her chair, balancing on its hind legs. Gravity snaked its fingers about her ankles and shoulders. She fought it off, finding an uneasy equilibrium.

Her phone buzzed and the chair slammed back down onto all four legs. She grunted as her chest struck the edge of the desk.

"Hello?" she grunted.

"Hey," said Emily, voice quavering.

"Em." Paige rubbed her ribs and forced a cheerful tone into her voice. "How are you?"

"Good." There was a pause. "Not good. I saw Samara today."

"Oh. Is she the one who called you the other night?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that."

"It's fine." Paige nibbled at the end of her pencil. She drummed it on the edge of the desk. "So?" Emily's breathing, crackling through the speaker, filled her ear. Then the other girl sucked in a sharp breath.

"Do you think I'm pathetic?"

Paige stopped drumming. Her eyebrows dove and a frown worked its way into her lips. "Did she say that?"

Silence. Then: "Yes. And it's true. I am pathetic. It just hurt to hear it from her, you know? I mean, I _loved _her."

Paige grimaced at the word _love. _"You're not pathetic. Em, you're so strong."

"You're the only person who says that. The only one. And as much as you try to convince me, I can't believe you. I'm _not_ strong. I let Samara treat me like shit and I let my parents walk all over me. I want to believe you but I can't. I can't stop myself thinking, _oh, she's just saying that to be nice_."

"I'm not! I wouldn't just say that. That's not the kind of person I am!" Paige scowled. Her voice rose.

"I know!" Emily's voice rose to meet Paige's. "I know that. But it doesn't change anything." Paige bit her lip as Emily choked back a sob on the other end. "I'm sorry," said Emily at last. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Emily, wait-" Paige reached out as if to grab the other girl and hold her there, but the line buzzed dead.

She glared at the phone in her hand. Then she jammed it in her pocket and flung open her door. As it slammed into the wall, she thundered down the stairs, barely pausing to yank on her sneakers and fly into the garage.

She jerked her bike upright and sped off down the street. Her anger rippled through her, pulsing beneath her skin with every beat of her heart and contraction of her lungs. She did not notice the cold on her face or her fingers; her mind was clouded.

But as she pedaled, the anger eked out of her. The fog began to lift. She took a deep breath, inhaling the smoky scent of fall. She'd reached the center of town. Her pace slowed. The wind tugged at her hair, peeling wild strands from the confines of her braid.

She ended up at the Apple Rose Grille, her anger and subsequent bike ride having set her stomach to growling. She waited for her take-out order, surveying the other customers: a family enjoying lunch, a blond woman resting her head in her hands, face twisted in concentration as she studied—_that's going to be me again, when I get home—_and a few of her classmates taking advantage of the beginning of the weekend.

Her name was called and she took her bag and headed out to her bike, fully intending to head home and resume her schoolwork with a clear head.

Then a woman called out from the restaurant behind her. "_You're_ Paige?"

Paige turned around, eyes wide. The blond student stood in front of her, eyes flashing. Paige took a step back. "Sorry?"

"Where do you get off? Do you enjoy wrecking other people's lives?"

"What the hell?" Paige drew herself up, squaring her shoulders against the other woman's onslaught. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you screwing my girlfriend behind my back."

_Shit. Samara._

Paige took a step forward. "I don't know who told you that, Samara, but that never happened."

"Please." Samara held her ground. "I know you have a thing for her. And Emily's hot, so I don't blame you. What I don't get it is why she would cheat on me with an ugly bitch like you."

Paige clenched her fists. "Maybe it makes you feel better to think that. But Emily never cheated on you. She just realized you're a loser who tried to pressure a high schooler into sleeping with you."

Samara scowled. "Get out of my way." She reached out and shoved the other girl.

"Don't touch me," said Paige, shoving her back.

She wasn't sure who swung first, or who shoved who next, but moments later Samara's fist was wrapped up in Paige's braid and Paige's fingers were hooked into Samara's shirt, and they had tumbled into the ground in a flurry of hands and legs and screams.

Someone seized her, hauling her off the blond, and she fought against them. Someone darted to the blond's side to help her up. Paige shook free of the hands that held her, brushing off her clothes; she raised a hand to her lip and felt blood.

A crowd had formed; the group of Rosewood High students had poured out of the Grille and stood with phones raised aloft and cameras recording. She threw a glare at them and snatched her takeout bag from the ground.

Paige grabbed her bike and sped away from the scene before anyone could stop her.

She headed around the house when she got home, dumping the bike in the grass before kicking off her shoes and catapulting herself into the pool, clothes and all. It swallowed her whole, and she sunk to the bottom, bubbles streaming from her nose. She went down, holding her breath as long as she could, until her lungs ached and the animal part of her mind clawed inside her skull, screeching for her to return to the world above.

Paige dragged in the deepest breath of her life as her lips crested the surface. She hauled herself out of the water, wet clothes hanging like so many weights from her frame. The autumn chill needled her as soon as she was out, biting her skin and burrowing into her joints until she shook.

She grabbed her takeout, then flopped across the deck, sopping wet socks slapping the planks with each step, and stumbled into her house. A trail of water followed her down the hall and up the stairs to the bathroom.

The shower was as hot as she could stand, and her skin prickled as it forced life back into her numbed fingers. She stood beneath the spout until her skin was red and her fingers puckered and wrinkled and the water began to run cold.

Her mother was downstairs, shouting at her for the mess she'd made coming inside, but Paige ignored her, shutting herself in her room.

Her pajamas were comfortable. She ate her meal at her desk, only occasionally glancing at her homework. Before she retreated to her bed, she faced herself in her mirror.

Her lip was split, and the skin beneath her left eye had begun to swell. She poked the spot and winced, then poked it again, holding her face as still as possible. _That's gonna bruise_. She frowned, but a smile itched her cheeks. She'd done much worse to Samara.

* * *

Her bruises had gone from bad to worse by the time she arrived at school on Monday. The rumor that she'd beat up a college student had already made the rounds, and anyone who'd doubted the truth of it had their questions answered as she strolled down the hall with her jaw firmly set.

The whispering followed her all day. She ignored it; her thoughts darted to Samara's bruises each time she overheard a hushed voice behind her back. _Can't make me feel guilty about something that I'm proud of._

She avoided the cafeteria at lunch, instead seeking out an isolated part of the courtyard and burying her nose in her still-incomplete homework.

It would remain incomplete. Just as she cracked open her book, Emily and the other three girls swarmed her.

"Oh my god, your face," said Hanna.

"Are you okay?" asked Emily.

"Did you really beat up Samara?" asked Aria.

"I hope you wrecked her," said Spencer.

They all spoke at the same time. Paige closed her book and blinked. "Whoa, slow down. One at a time, please."

Emily glanced at the others then stepped forward to sit beside Paige. "Are you okay?" she asked again.

Paige nodded. "I'm fine." Hanna fussed over her for a moment, offering to cover up the bruises as best she could, but Paige refused.

"Why?" asked Emily. She wasn't talking about the makeup. Paige bit her lip and fought back the wince as she remembered why the action hurt so much.

"Who cares why?" said Spencer. Paige turned her attention to the hawkish girl, raising an eyebrow.

"Did I win your approval, Spence?"

The other girls' all glanced between Paige and Spencer, eyes wide and confused. Spencer crossed her arms. "In this one instance, yes. I think she probably deserved it and I hope she looks just as awful."

Paige grinned and gave a thumbs up.

After a few more rounds of questions, Spencer led Hanna and Aria away. Emily hung behind. She glanced to her friends' retreating backs, then scooted closer to Paige, gripping Paige's knee.

"Are you really okay?" she asked. "You're allowed to be a mess in front of me."

Paige stared at the hand on her knee. Half of her brain was screaming at her to take that hand in her own. The other half had her glancing towards the exit in fear. They met in the middle, and she met Emily's eyes with her own.

Did she exhale? Did she shatter along every nerve, as though a wedge had been driven into her spine? If her tongue had not been so thick, she would have sworn the words _oh my god_ hissed through her teeth. She swallowed.

"I'm sorry," she said, and it was all she could say. Her face burned and she hung her head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," said Emily. "I wasn't happy to hear what you did. It's... that's kind of scary stuff, Paige."

Paige's heart gave a painful lurch and froze in her chest. If not for the veins and arteries suspending it, it might have fallen into her gut like a rock.

"But," continued Emily, and Paige lifted her eyes again. "I get why you did it. Thank you for... for caring so much about me."

She shook her head and stood up before Paige could speak again, and the bell rang as she did. "Come find me later, okay? Give me a call." Emily bit her lip, color flooding her cheeks as she stared down at the bruised girl.

Then she was gone.

Paige made it to her next class, though it was all a blur. _Come find me later? What does that mean?_

She was so deep in the puzzle that she almost missed her name crackling over the PA system.

"Paige McCullers, please report to the Vice-Principal's office..."

The voice died with a click, and every set of eyes in the classroom turned to her.

The whispers began again before she'd leaned down to grab her things. They built as she stepped down the aisles, rising as she crossed the threshold into the hall. She heard the teacher snap at the class to settle down as she began to walk.

Her steps echoed in the hallway. She was alone. Each time she passed a classroom, she felt its occupants' stares.

In her own classroom, Emily stared out the open door. The announcement rattled in her head. Paige McCullers, Paige McCullers... the girl in question walked past, and Emily sucked in a breath. Her hands gripped the book in front of her as though it might anchor her in place. If she could remember how to move her legs, she thought she might have darted after her.

Paige found the office. Mona ushered her towards the door.

"Have a seat, Miss McCullers," said Vice-Principal Hackett. She stepped through and took the one available seat, right between her parents.

* * *

_**A/N**_**_: You finish reading the new chapter. They haven't made out yet and that makes you sad._**

_ Send message telling Cowpuppy to get to the making out already_

_**Cowpuppy really appreciates your feedback (no, seriously, you're all awesome and I got some really helpful feedback last week!) and tells you it will happen soon, don't worry.**  
_


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